søndag den 28. februar 2021

Himmel og Jord - Heaven and Earth

Bare et par billeder fra i forgårs.
Først fuldmånen tidligt på aftenen. Er den ikke flot!

     Tidligt på morgenen var jeg ude og give hønsene mad. Der lagde jeg mærke til en underlig jordbunke inde i det faldefærdige legehus, hvor maden står. Jeg tænkte, at frosten måske havde skubbet noget af "muge-ud-spandens" indhold ud på jorden, den var nemlig frosset fast og ikke til at flytte, det opdagede jeg naturligvis først, da jeg havde fyldt den lidt mere end til randen ...
     Men så, da jeg var ude og fotografere månen, kom jeg derud igen, og der, midt på græsplænen var forklaringen ...

-- 🌕 --

Just a couple of photos from the day before yesterday.
  On top: The full moon early evening my time. Isn't it beautiful?

  And below ... in the morning, as I fed the chicken I noticed a small mound of dirt inside the decrepit playhouse where the feed is stored. I thought it was the frost pushing things from my "cleaning of the chicken coop-bucket". When last I filled it, it had frozen to the ground, and I could not move it. Of course I discovered this when I had already (over)filled said bucket.
  But later, as I was out photographing the Moon. I found the explanation. Right there in the middle of the lawn ...
Smuk måne og ubudne, underjordiske gæster 
Beautiful moon, and uninvited guests below ground.

Midt på dagen var det så tid for indkøb. Der var kommet en ny serie lego-minifigurer. En uimodståelig fristelse for Uglemor. Og se, hvilken figur, der var i posen!

-- 🧱 --

In the middle of the day it was shopping time. A new LEGO minifigure series had come out. This poses an irresistible temptation for MotherOwl. Now look which figure was in that bag!
Lækkersulten biavler --  Honey hungry beekeeper

     Cathy @ Still Waters har lige fortalt om en udfordring, der passer som fod i hose med Søndagsbilleder. Det er  HeyJude fra Travel Words, der hver måned vælger en farve. Denne måneds farve er gul, så måske kan jeg lige præcis nå at lege med, for hvad er mere fristende gult en en frisk honningtavle? Og er månen ikke også gul?


   Cathy @ Still Waters just told of an interesting monthly challenge that fits Sunday Selections like a glove. A monthly colour has been chosen by HeyJude at Travel Words. Maybe I can make it. The colour for February is yellow. and what is more temptingly yellow than a fresh honeycomb? And often moons are perceived as yellow too. 

lørdag den 27. februar 2021

Birch Manor - 3 - Senior Service

  This Wednesday's - 24th February - words was a compilation of funny-sounding words from Alex J. Cavanaugh, published at Elephant's Child's blog.
  I'm proud to tell that I only had to look up two of them. But then I almost did not use any of them, only three ... well this sounds good for a continuation of this tale at least. These stricken words were used in Birch Manor 1 &2. 


Continuing the story of the rediscovering of magic - and using three more words.

"They say on the internet that we'll have sunshine all day tomorrow," Susan said over the evening coffee. The living room they sat in was almost cleared of things. The shelves were empty, the chairs stood in small groups, and the piano were empty too. No lamp, no bust of Chopin or the other small souvenirs usually placed there. On the other hand, moving boxes stood in stacks on the entire floor. "Books A-E" in Susan's clear handwriting could be read on the bottom box.
"Yes?" said Knud questioning, "Where do you want to go with that?"
"It will be so good when we're unpacking at Birch Manor," Susan said. "This moving chaos looks so sad, so sad."
Knud could see into the kitchen from where he sat at the table. There too everything was packed away in crates. On the kitchen table stood only what they had used for dinner, and a lot of glasses, waiting for moving day, when the kids should come and help carry out everything.
"You're right. I'm also looking forward to getting in order, and to explore the surroundings."
"Yes, but tomorrow ..." Susan hesitated. "Shouldn't we take another day off and go to Hundested, to Fiona's place or to Funen and look for Martine?"
"If you whip up a batch of cakes, while I clear the table and do the dishes  ... Well, no everything is put into crates already. We should be able to buy some cakes along the way. Let's go to Funen. Even with sunshine, it is not warm enough for a stroll along the harbour in Hundested yet. Fiona must wait," Knud said.


Next morning, Susan and Knud boarded the very first bus through their village. They sat together in the train and read. "What if she do not recognize us at all?" Susan asked with a worried frown. "You will only be taken care of in a nursing home if you are completely demented."
"Or if you have no one to take care of you," Knud countered. "According to me, she should be around 80 and that does not necessarily imply dementia."
"I hope you're right," Susan said sincerely.


When they got off the train, Knud realized that Susan had taken her old, brown suitcase along. "Oh, you're carrying that one along! Are you going to dress Martine in your old skirt or what?"
"Perhaps," Susna replied. "In fact, it is probably mostly because I don't want to leave all the wizarding things at home. Everything is in here. Our wands, yes, yours too, the handbook with Cantrippes for everyday use, remember that one? Newspaper cuttings, my skirt and your pants, they were Helge's pants, I think, so we have proof that they also work on a wizard who is not the owner."
"You are smart, Susan," said Knud with praise in his voice. "Look there is a baker."
They bought some cakes and a good smelling, still warm spelt-flour bread, which they carefully put into Knud's backpack.
"The nursing home should be at the end of the main street, facing the water" Knud said after consulting the map.
"There is it! What a beautiful, old building," Susan said surprised. "Most nursing homes are modern horrors, this looks like people actually live inside."

Inside, at the front desk a young girl was lolligagging. She looked amazed when Susan and Knud entered. "Does the bell not work again?" she asked confused.
"I suppose not," Susan replied, "no one answered."
"Well, OK," she shook her head in confusion. "You can't help it. Who are you here to visit?"
"Martine Haugen," Knud answered.
"Oh how wonderful," the young girl replied. "She never gets visitors, we feel sorry for her. Are you family?"
"No," Susan replied. "She is our old teacher, we thought she had went home to Norway, and we only recently found out that she was still in Denmark."
"Then I'd like to warn you," said the young girl who now no longer looked bored or sleepy. "She was in a terrible accident many years ago." She is lame from the chest down. But her head is in fine working order. I'll get someone to take you there." She rang a bell.
"Thank you for the warning," Susan said and smiled at the girl. "We knew her as a physically very active lady, so it must have been hard for her."

"You have visitors, Martine," the nurse said loudly. "I'll bring you some coffee in a little while."
Martine sat in an electric wheelchair in front of the window and looked out over the fjord. She turned around when they entered the room.
Knud closed the door after the nurse, and Susan extended her hand towards the old lady in the wheelchair. It was not easy to see that the white-haired, sad looking lady was Martine. Under the sunshine yellow spread both legs were cut off just above the knees, the arms were thin and not quite straight, and it looked as if her spine had been damaged in the accident as well. She also looked more Asian than Susan remembered, but then she remembered that someone had told her that Martine's grandmother had been Japanese.
"Good day Martine," Susan said. "My name is Susan and this is Knud. We are your old students from the Unicorn Farm. Do you remember us?"
A sad smile spread over Martine's wrinkled face: "Susan and Knud! Yes, you bet I do remember you. You were two of the most hopeless students I ever had the pleasure of teaching. But it has been long indeed. I have not been able to teach for many years! "
 The nurse came in with a coffee and three cups: "Did you bring something for the coffee?" she asked kindly. "Otherwise we may have a piece of cake left from the birthday yesterday."
"We have brought some cakes, but thanks for the offer," replied Knud.
He waited until she had gone out and closed the door after her.
"Nice people here, but they are lacking a little where good manners are concerned. She obviously never learned to knock," Knud said laughingly. "But you don't go around snaking out like a ninja either?"
"It's no laughing matter," Susan said sternly. "But frankly Martine. How many legs do you need to fly a broomstick?"
Martine looked shocked and dried away a tear. "Fly. I only do that in my dreams." She sniffled. "Do you really remember how it was at the Unicorn Farm? I thought it was only Thora and me who could. We tried to contact a couple of the old apprentices, but it was no success. Those we could find, could not Remember anything, and most were dead. It was so depressing. I actually think Thora found you two as well. You have lots of kids, don't you?"
Knud nodded, and was about to talk, but Martine interrupted him. "No, let me talk before I lose my courage. I'm not bitter, no, but I have resigned. The hope of magic died with Thora. She and I, we could talk. We could remember, remember how it was to be able to work magic. We just couldn't do any magic. It didn't work any more. The magic was gone."
Susan opened her mouth, but Knud put a hand on her arm and she remained silent.
Martine continued: "But Susan, actually you are right. I could fly with these stumps. But I can't. First of all, my hands and arms are not strong enough, the accident did that too. Secondly, the magic no longer works, as I already said. Gilvi and his Mondrian delivered as promised. They have all died, Only not me, and the magic died with them. But now you are here and Remember the Unicorn Farm. How much do you remember? I would give everything to be able to do magic again. It would be so much easier. But blast it. It's impossible. And imagine what the nice nurses here would say if I suddenly landed in the dining room on my broomstick."
Martine began to laugh, a hysterical laughter that turned in to crying.
Susan opened her brown suitcase and picked up her wand.
"Martine! Listen to me!" she said harshly. "The magic is not dead. Look at me!" She swung the wand and the sparks flew.
"What ... How ..." Martine stopped.
"We believe that the key is our old pants and skirts. Do you dare to try?"
"What do I have to lose?" Martine asked. She turned the wheelchair away from them, blowing her nose and drying her eyes.
Susan took her skirt from the suitcase and extended it. Martine slowly and shakenly advanced her crippled hand and touched the skirt. A disbelieving smile spread on her face.
"Yes, it works. I can feel the magic waking inside of me. It's amazing! But my magic wand, where has it gone?"

"Dear Martine," Susan said. "All the wands stopped working at that time, they broke, splintered or disappeared. I still have the sad remnants of my old wand in the brown suitcase. But I'm a wandsinger! Tell me what tree your wand came from, then I can sing you a new one."
"My wand was made from spruce. Norway's National Tree. Don't you remember the old inscription: 'Beech for Denmark, Birch for Sweden, Spruce for Norway, Juniper for Finland and Rowan for Iceland'," quoted Martine, and Susan remembered the old verse.

Knud suddenly smiled a cunning smile: "I'm sure you remember Fiona." Martine nodded so energetically that she almost made the coffee spill. "In addition to being good at flying ..." continued Knud,
"And was she!" Martine said with emphasis.
"... she was great at healing magic. And today she is healer and painter in Hundested. We must find her, and then we must make her visit you. Or the other way around."
"Martine, we need you!" Susan said earnestly. "We want to create a new school. We will revive the magic once again. And you know and remember so much more than we do. Could we persuade you to move closer to us?"
"I'm totally overwhelmed," Martine said. "You have opened new opportunities and new roads for me in the years I thought was the courtyard of death. Now I have to tell you something. In a month, yes on May 17th, it  is my 80th birthday. I meant to celebrate it all alone ... And then afterwards I had fully intended to put an end to it all, but now ... How many apprentices do you think you can gather and 'awaken' or what you might call it? And can I move to Zealand. If I could do magic and be able to fly, then I could move into a house of my own." Martine was still smiling. She looked younger for every minute.
"Shouldn't we take a walk outside? Maybe we can find a spruce along the way? Just you don't let anyone discover what malarkey we've put you up to!"
"I was not born yesterday," Martine replied, with a glimpse of her old teacher's voice. Susan and Knud smiled at each other behind her back, and followed Martine's wheelchair into the park-like garden.

fredag den 26. februar 2021

Birch Manor - 2 - More Dead Apprentices, and an Opening.

  This Wednesday's - 24th February - words was a compilation of funny-sounding words from Alex J. Cavanaugh, published at Elephant's Child's blog.
  I'm proud to tell that I only had to look up two of them. But then I almost did not use any of them, only three ... well this sounds good for a continuation of this tale at least. These stricken words were used in Birch Manor 1. I am now allowed renaming and will do.


Continuing the finding of apprentices - and using three more words - it's almost as depressing as the first part, but there's ligth at the end of the tunnel.


For the rest of the morning, Susan continued the depressing work of plowing through Swedish, Norwegian, Icelandic, Finnish and Danish obituaries and telephone directories online. Looking for Heidi and her family was a total fiasco. Although Kaithan and Cassandra were not exactly common names, there was no trace of them, and no Bachs. No Tage, Lis or Heidi at least. They must have either emigrated or changed their name.
  Birgitta had had a tumultuous career; she had become a high school teacher, but had been fired after a case of abuse, since free school educator, then homeless had and died just before the turn of the millennium in a closed ward. Jon had become an actor and had emigrated to the United States, and there the trail disappeared.
  Susan then tried to find Aamu, the last of the wand singers. She was somehow convinced that all the wand singers were still alive. But there were many Aamu's and several of them were named Raita for a last name. And it meant somethingas well, she found lots of adverticements for knitting patterns, yarnand so on; all in Finninch of course. However, she also did not find any obituaries for any of that name, so Aamu was probably still alive. It was hard for her to be sure, she was not good at Finnish, to say the least, and even with Google translate you only got that far. Jouka and Finnbogi did not give anything either. Mostly because Susan was unable to remember their last names or pretty much anything else about them. Maybe Knud could help her.
  Jan and Olav, the two Norwegians, were the only two from the purple group Susan had any success finding. They had a wine import and party rental service in Oslo, and looked happy, convivial and life-enjoying in the pictures on their website.
  Finally, just before she was about to give up, Susan tried facebook as a last resorit, she typed Berggren in the search box and found the sorrel Anna. She still lived in Helsingborg. Kalle, her brother, had died a long time ago. There was a notice for the 40th anniversary of his death on Anna's timeline from the year before. She sighed loudly again and got up from the computer.


"... and Ingrid died in a car accident in 1990. The only positive thing is that all the wand singers are probably alive," Susan concluded her story. "What have you found out this time, and could you please take over Jouka and Finnbogi? You probably know more about them than I do."
  "Yes," Knud replied, "and could you please try and find Marit. I do not remember her at all."
  "Marit? Well she was one of the good flyers. She is Astrid's sister and Olav's cousin. She flew for the yellow team and was actually a great help in our conspirator group at the time. I will probably find her if she wants to be found. I found both Olav and Astrid after all."
  Knud continued his sad enumeration: "Torben went to Belgium, where he worked in a water park - that has to be Tristan's place. Those two and several employees died during a flood. Martine is still alive, as the only teacher, but she is old and living in a nursing home on Funen, how ever she ended up there ... she was Norwegian after all. Maybe we should go and pay her a visit? The apprentices ... it's a bit like a repetition. The living: Fiona, is a painter and healer in Hundested - We can visit her come summer.
  Bjørn died of an overdose in the Stockholm underground. Nata from Finland travelled to India with Astrid - is that Marit's sister?" Susan nodded. "They were both found dead in Goa," Knud continued. "Sif and Elvin, the two amazing flyers, flew hang gliders and died when their twin plane was caught by a strong wind and crashed into a steep cliff at a show. Josh was shot in a gang war."
  "Who are left over now?" Susan asked.
  "Marit, Jouka and Finnbogi of course. And then Heidi, Tage, Lis and their parents, if they are still alive, Sarah from Rødovre."
  "Her last name was Poulsen," Susan said. "Not that it helps much."
  "Thank you, noted," said Knud, and continued, "and Monika, wasn't her last name also Bach like Heidi and was she a Norwegian?"
  "No Bakke, I think, but I'm not sure of the spelling. She was from southern Norway, probably Oslo or the surrounding area. And then there's Aamu ... We will probably have to let her rest for a time. I will take over Marit, Sarah and Monika and then I'm givingHeidi and family an extra try, so you can concentrate on Jouka and Finnbogi."
  "It's a deal," Knud said.


Susan found Sarah Poulsen pretty quickly. She was on Facebook, she was an early retiree and was part of various anti-vaccination and conspiracy networks. Not exactly what Susan had expected. "Nitwit," Susan thought to herself, "She was not very clever at Unicorn Farm either. Maybe we won't reactivate her magcical potentials as one of the first ones ..."
  Monika Backe, Bakke or something in Oslo was a total blank. Susan put her aside and continued. Marit was next. Susan remembered Marit vividly. Astrid's always optimistic and balanced little sister. And she could fly a broomstick! Upon reading more about Astrid's death and burial, she found out that Marit had married a gentleman named Espedal. It reminded Susan of something. Jan o course! His last name was Espedal. The website had been simply Olav and Jan's Wine and Party Service. A quick look at the Norwegian yellow pages found Jan and Marit Espedal in a villa in the greater Oslo area. It had to be them!
  At a sudden whim, she also looked up Olav in the yellow pages. And there, right nearby, lived Olav and Monica Ravndal, Monica with a C and not a K. It sounded almost too good to be true. She was looking forward to telling Knud about her findings.
  But the magician's family. She would like to find Heidi again ... If they had changed their name, what would Heidi be called now? Suddenly Susan knew it! Tanja. Heidi had once told her that she had always dreamed of being called Tanja. With bated breath Susan tipped in "Tanja" in the search box on Facebook. There were several of that name, but only one that resembled Sandra, Heidi's mother, a bit. She went to her news feed. And there were two older siblings, a man and a lady, who back in September had congratulated 'Tanja' on her round day. There were several pictures and a plus for more. Susan clicked it. 'Tanja' and her siblings were on most of them. And their children as well. Susan was no longer in doubt. The children looked almost as had Heidi, Tage and Lis as they were at the Unicorn Farm together.

"I found them, all of them," Susan ran in to Knud. "Heidi and her siblings, Olav, Monica, Jan, Marit and Sarah. They're all alive and Tanja, as Heidi is called now, and Lis and Tage have a lot of kids who look like them! Huzzah! I forgot to check their names, I'll be back. " And with a quick kiss on top of Knud's unruly hair, she was off again. Tage was now called Svend and Lis was Ida. And they all lived close to each other - and only 10 kilometres from Birch Manor. Susan was ecstatic.

Knud came in: "Wonderful good news, I have to see." Susan showed him the pictures. "Oh yes, look at that boy," Knud was delighted. "It's just like seeing Tage again and that girl looks a lot like Lis. But it is not their children. It's their grandchildren."
  "It's hard to get used to the fact that we're getting old," Susan sighed. "But of course you're right. Those adult creatures," Susan pointed to a nicely posed picture with Heidi, the twins and their spouses in the back, a row of adults in the middle and a group of children in the foreground, "it is the children and in-laws of Heidi, Lis and Tage. Those children are their grandchildren."
  "And I have found Finnbogi," said Knud. "It's weird that you did not find him when you were looking for Rósa, he also works at that museum of Icelandic original magic or whatever it's called ... it sounds pretty bogus to me. But so what. At least I found him." He stroked Susan's hair and disappeared back to his own computer again, only to return shortly after, while Susan was still sitting and studying Heidi's Facebook profile trying to sort out children, grandchildren and in-laws.
  "And I'm done," Knud said sadly. "Jouka has been found. Dead. Another overdose in the drug circles of Oslo in the 80es." Susan sighed deeply and put a mark next to his name on her list.
  "Actually an incredible number of apprentices have died. I let my former colleague do the maths. Out of 39, far more should be alive today. 33 would be the expected number. I have not counted in the teachers, as they were older."
  "But it seems like people have died of ... uh, we have to call it natural causes," Susan said. "I mean, no murder or assault, except for Josh. And Torben and David are both among the early casualties, otherwise we could have suspected a conspiracy. A kind of revenge."
  "It makes no sense, thankfully," Knud said. "Many of the dead ones had gone over to Torben's side before the infamous party. And Marja and Josta were some of Torben and David's most faithful supporters. I just think deep down inside the - no let's admit it - us former wizards and witches lived a yearning, a hollow feeling, an existential hunger that several of us have tried to fill up with daredevilry, drugs or whatever was at hand. Just think of yourself, my dear. "
  "I am so happy to have you," Susan sighed contentedly, grabbing Knud's hand.
  "Same to you, my beloved," Knud said embarrassed. "But it won't be long before we start visiting all those other wizards, will it? "
  "No, of course not," We can take a trip to Hundested and look at Fiona's exhibition next time the weather is good," Susan said with a teasing smile.

torsdag den 25. februar 2021

Reaktioner? Dansk udgave

Kære læsere,

Jeg har tænkt en del over dette her. For begge de to udfordringer, jeg deltager i: Words for Wednesday (Onsdagsord) hostet af Elephant's Child og Poetry Monday (Mandagspoesi) hostet af Diane, er et afsnit i vejledningen dedikeret til at bede, eller vel rettere, tigge om kommentarer:

Jeg har noget mere at bede om dig: Hvis du læser dette og andres poesi, vil du så ikke godt efterlade en kommentar. Halvdelen - hvis ikke mere - af fornøjelsen ved disse udfordringer er at læse andres svar.

     Men på trods af dette afsnit og flere lignende hos de andre deltagere,  bliver kommentarer sjældnere og sjældnere. Ud af de mellem 20 og 40, der læser mine blogindlæg - ja, hvis du læser dette, tilhører du en lille klub 😉 - er det kun en håndfuld trofaste læsere - TAK! til jer! - der nogensinde kommenterer.

     I går linkede Lissa til en anden blogger, Sandra, som også undrede sig. Hun har tænkt på at droppe sin blog eller gøre den privat, ting der endnu aldrig har faldet mig ind, da jeg er alt for vild med at skrive.
     Sandra lægger, ligesom mig, skylden for de manglende kommentarer på på de superhurtige sociale medier som Facebook eller Instagram. Jeg er på begge disse platforme, men kun på grund af behovet for at følge med i en gruppe, ikke fordi jeg kan lide dem! Jeg logger ind en gang om dagen, ser på gruppens nyheder og logger af igen. Jeg poster der kun med meget lange mellemrum (og slet ikke på Instagram, da det kræver en smartphone, hvilket jeg altså ikke har).

Jeg har også set flere og flere mennesker forlade bloggeriet helt. Pludselig ender bloggen - nærmest midt i en sætning, men hvis jeg følger et link på deres blog finder jeg dem ofte sprællevende og aktive på Instagram.
     Jeg vil ikke stoppe med at blogge. For mig er blogging den ægte vare. Jeg kan godt lide muligheden for at skrive lange, endda måske for lange indlæg. Jeg kan godt lide at kunne tilføje fotos, hvor jeg vil have dem (hvis Blogger tillader det i dag). Jeg kan godt lide at læse kommentarer, spørgsmål og så videre.

Nu har jeg forsøgt at tilføje en reaktionsmulighed til sidefoden af ​​mine blogindlæg. Jeg kan ikke rigtig lide det. Jeg synes, det er for Insta-lignende. Men en reaktion, der bare er et klik på en boks, er vel bedre end slet ingen reaktion?

Lad mig høre:
- skræmmer jeg dig væk med mine lange fortællinger fra Enhjørningegården?
- er det fordi der er for meget på engelsk?
- afskrækker jeg dig ved ikke at være mere (eller mindre) politisk / feministisk / økologisk  / træ-krammende / pro dit eller contra dat, hvad din hjertesag end måtte være?
- skriver jeg for tit eller for sjældent?

Reactions! Post in English

Dear readers,

I have been thinking. For both of the two challenges, I participate in, Words for Wednesdays hosted by Elephant's Child, and Poetry Monday hosted by Diane, a paragraph of the how-to is dedicated to the asking, nay, begging for response.

I have something more to ask of you: If you read this and the poetry of others, would you please leave a comment. Half - if not more - the fun of these challenges is receiving the responses of others.

But despite this paragraph, and more like it on other blogs, comments are getting rarer all the time. Out of the rarely under 20 and over 40 that read my Words or Poems - yes if you read this,  you belong to a small club 😉 - but of these only a handful of faithful readers - THANK YOU! - ever responds.

Yesterday Lissa linked to another blogger, Sandra, who is also wondering. She has also thought of discontinuing her blog, or making it private, things that never crossed my mind, as I love writing too much.
Sandra, like me, blames the missing responses on the superfast Social Media like Facebook or Instagram. I am on both these platforms, but only from the need to follow someone, not because I like them, which I don't! I log on once a day, look at the group news for my group there, and log off again. I post there only once in a blue moon.

I have also seen more and more people leave blogging altogether. Suddenly, blogs are ending in the middle of a sentence (figuratively speaking) and then, following the link in their sidebar, I find them alive and kicking at Instagram.

I am not going to stop blogging. To me blogging is the real McCoy. I like the possibility to write long, even overlong posts. I like to be able to add photos where I like them to be (Blogger allowing). I like to read your comments, questions and so on.

Now I have tried adding a reaction option to the footer of my blog posts.I don't really like it. I think it's too Insta-like. But a thumbs up - or down - is better than no reaction at all.

Let me hear.
- Am I scaring you off with my too long tales from Unicorn Farm or Birch Manor?
- Am I putting you off by not being more (or less) political /feminist/organic/tree-hugging/pro this or con that, whatever your cause may be?
- Do I post too often or too seldom?
- Or is it just a case of the natural ups and downs?

onsdag den 24. februar 2021

Birch Manor - 1 - The Finding Out

Denne historie ligger på dansk på min blog om Enhjørningegården.

This Wednesday's words is a compilation of funny-sounding words from
Alex J. Cavanaugh, published at Elephant's Child's blog.
I'm proud to tell that I only had to look up two of them. But then I almost did not use any of them ... well this sounds good for a continuation of this tale at least.
  In the beginning, t
his instalment was named "Birch Manor 2". I have now renamed it and straigthened out all Blogger's messing with my post numbers. Thank you!


Oh you wanted to know which two I had to look up? - Piffle and Huzzah were new to me

This story is a spin-off from The tales from the Unicorn Farm.

Birch Manor is the place Susan and Knud is going to move to upon retiring and re-discovering their magical identities. I had that chapter (Unicorn Farm - The Epilogue) public for a short while, but it has long since been taken down again. 
In this chapter - actually taking place the day after the Epilogue, they have not moved yet. They are packing and preparing for the move, but as you'll know upon having read this chapter, moving might just take a bit longer than planned.
I wrote a lot more, but I was afraid to scare you off with a wall of text. This is a small part of it. The finding out:

The alarm clock rang and Susan turned it off. Knud turned to her: "Good morning, darling!" he said as every morning and gave her a kiss.
"Good morning, my dear," Susan replied, as every morning. "You better brew some really strong coffee today. I did not sleep very well last night."
"No, I heard you. You tossed and turned all the time, and you even went downstairs in the middle of the night. Is something wrong?"
"No nothing's wrong with me, but I have been thinking. Now you skedaddle, and brew us some coffee, I'll be right down, once I have finished the morning gymnastics. I think best with some coffee inside."
"Yeah," Knud replied smiling as he pulled on his clothes and tugged downstairs to brew coffee.
"Downstairs ..." Susan mused. "At Birch Manor the kitchen and bedroom are both downstairs, it won't be 'down' just 'over'. I wonder how that will work out?" She reluctantly got up and did her morning gymnastics in front of the open window. She then brought her old, brown suitcase downstairs.
Over the day's second cup of coffee, Susan began to feel her brain functioning again: "Knud," she said, "I've been thinking ... most of the night ..." Knud nodded and looked interested. "Where have they gone?" she asked. "I mean, all the people from the Unicorn Farm? The only one we know positively where has gone is Gilvi, and he's dead. She read aloud from the yellowed newspaper clipping: '... further investigations have not clarified the cause of the fire, but the body of an old vagabond was found in the barn. The technical investigation also shows that the fire occurred in several places at the same time ... ' I am 100 percent sure that the vagabond was Gilvi. But what about all the others. What about Heidi and her family They were not at that pandemonium of a closing party, can they still do magic? What about Jon, and Birgitta, and worse, Torben and David and that bandit of Tristan from Holland. I would like to track them down."
"Belgium," Knud corrected automatically, "he was French-speaking. What about the Swedes, Helge and Bo and the others,"
"Oh, God yes, Helge" Susan said. "He always got off on the wrong foot, wondering how he got on without magic?"
"Facebook and Google are your friends," Knud replied. "I think we should maybe take a day off from packing down the house and instead go hunting on the internet."
"I agree," Susan replied, getting up. Together they cleared the table and Susan brought an extra cup of coffee and her brown suitcase in front of the computer.
"In order not to waste time on the same people, you take Heidi and family and the green team this morning? Then I take the blue one, I hung out with the Swedes a lot back then."
"It's a deal," Susan replied.


When it was coffee time, Susan had also baked scones, She needed to think of something else, "It's a little creepy," she said to Knud when he came in with the coffee. "Most of those I have been able to trace have been via obituaries. Thora's death is of course no surprise, she died full of days sometime in the late 90s. But the apprentices ... Veronika: Died 1982 in a solo accident on her first drive alone. Terje, died of an overdose in Oslo in 1981. Josta and Marja, the Birchsisters, died with their parents, and an aunt and her children when the family's cottage went up in flames in 1979. Kirstin: Drowned in 1979 on a swim after a high school party. I have had no luck tracking down Kalle and Anna yet." She sighed deeply. "And then the good news: Hilde is a head nurse at a hospital in northern Norway. It suits her perfectly. And Rósa, fortunately she is also alive. She is at some strange museum for Old Icelandic magic, it sounds like a lot of piffle, really. But she's alive. I've been pushing off looking for Heidi and her family, I was afraid of what I would find.
Knud shook his head: "Pretty much the same as you. Tähti and Taavi are obviously dead, they were almost 100 years old. But as you said ... the apprentices." Knud stopped and sighed as deeply as Susan. "Let me start with the good news. Helge is still alive. And so is My."
"Oh how good," Susan interrupted, "All the wand singers are alive so far. Me, My, Rósa and well, I have not found Anna yet. Sorry, just keep going."

"All the Eklund children, Bo, Britta, Harald and Lukas died, also in a summer house. They had turned on the stove, but they fumbled with the air supply. Carbon monoxide poisoning got them. Selma and Grani got married and died on their honeymoon. David is dead too He joined the squatters and suffered a cannabis psychosis. He jumped out the window one day the police stormed the building. I have not been able to find Sarah. And I'm going to look for Monica after coffee. Should I continue with the yellow team?"
"Yes, Heidi and the twins were on the purple team, so I'm already all set there. But, I'll come up with more people, where I'm unsure of both last name and age and so on, but that's how you feel about the yellow ones, right? "
"Yes, certainly," replied Knud. "So if you think of something, write it down, then we can compare notes after lunch."
"OK," Susan replied.

To be continued ...

mandag den 22. februar 2021

Poetry Monday :: Favourite Word that starts with D

  Diane of On the Border is supplying us with topics for this weekly endeavour, sometimes with the help of others - If you have any good ideas, just say so in her comments section. She and Mimi of Messymimi's Meanderings also write wonderful, funny, thought-provoking, ingenious and honestly well written verse. Go and read.
  Karen of Baking in a Tornado has joined us in this crazy pursuit, and promises us at least a poem a month - may  we hope for more.
  SpikesBestMate often publishes a nice verse in the comments, and helps out at topic supplying.

  Jenny at Procrastinating Donkey is taking a break due to her husband's recent passing from this world. Let's continue to send warm thoughts, good energy, and lots of prayers her way.

  I have something more to ask of you: If you read this and the poetry of others, would you please leave a comment. Half - if not more - the fun of these challenges is receiving the responses of others

  Sometimes, when I sit down to write poetry, strange things happen. This time around a crossword puzzle happened.
  Why my poor head is up to no poetry, I do not know. I am in a contrary mood for the time being, imagine me being at least mentally something like a 2 year old, or a teenager. Don't tell me what to do ... I'll do the opposite - just because!
  I have no idea whether you think this is fun or not, but as no poem happened, I'll just publish this. The solution will follow tomorrow. There's no prizes except for bragging rights.

The prompts for the coming Mondays, it you'd like to join in:

Peanut Butter Day (March 1)
Be nasty Day (March 8)
Pi(e) Day (what else would it be?) (March 15)
World Poetry Day (March 22)
Something on a Stick Day (March 29)

søndag den 21. februar 2021

Søndagsbilleder - Sunday Selections

 Fugle og sne - Birds and Snow

Endelig fik vi noget sne, og gadekæret var frosset til. Vi havde det sjov.
We finally had some snow and the pond was frozen solid. We had fun.

Skovspurv (Passer montanus). Den breder sig på gråspurvens bekostning.
Tree sparrow (Passer montanus). They are becoming more numerous, while the House sparrow population is declining.

En musvit, der går til den
A Great tit going all in.

En rødkælk, de er så flotte.
I really like Robins. They are beautiful .. and those eyes!

Jeg ved ikke, hvad den hedder, samme fulg set fra begge ender, let rystet.
Gently shaken photo of a bird. I do not know the name, but it's the same one, seen from both ends.

En blåmejse for sig lidt mad og en gyngetur.
A blue tit having some nuts and a swing.

Solsorten her tager sig et lille hvil. Den er træt af at jage rundt med de andre fugle.
A blackbird taking a rest from chasing those other birds.

torsdag den 18. februar 2021

Words for Wednesday - Winter at Unicorn Farm 3

In February the prompts are provided by Alex J. Cavanaugh, but published at Elephant's Child's blog. Today he has given us two times five words.


  As I wrote on EC's blog, these prompts spelt trouble for me, as they made me realize I messed up the timeline in my Unicorn Farm. Seriously even.
  Now I publish what I have written. It was supposed to be a prequel to this chapter.   But at the same time it is a sequel to this one, which happens earlier. Urgh.
  I only used 3 of the words this time. They did not fit into the storyline.

As soon as they had eaten, Susan dressed in winter attire and went in search of Jon. She was insecure, and needed reassurance. She found him in the cellar room, packing away the old puppet theatre.
"Jon," she said. "Can I really go everywhere, I want?"
"Yes you can," Jon answered in an earnest voice. "Only take good care not to be seen coming or going. Where are you thinking of going?"
"I have to go to my Grandma. She lives near by, and she phoned this morning. She has been snowed in. And I promised to come and help her."
"The snow is helping," Jon said, again in a very serious voice. "Nobody is around watching you or your grandma's house. And if you know the place, you can go there."
"Really? Everywhere?" Could I go to Germany and visit Ella's grandmother?"
"Yes and no," as with cleaning and many other things, it would be, well not easier, but better using mundane means. You would expend loads of energy going that far, and would be sleeping for days after arriving. It gets easier with practise, but never easy. This is the reason behind our portals network; they do not demand the massive output of energy to use.  But if your Grandma lives close to here, you're in no trouble. Get going." Jon smiled an encouraging smile and turned to the dolls theatre again.  
Susan thanked Jon and thought of the smelly outhouse. Better to appear somewhere unseen. In the very last second she stopped. If the house was buried in snow, the outhouse would be a trap.
"Jon," she said, and he turned towards her. "Can I appear in the air above somewhere? Nobody ever thought of teleporting in this much snow. I don't like the idea of appearing in her living room."
Jon smiled broadly. "Of course you can, Susan. Just think of the place.And get going already."
His confidence in her ability did more than his words accounted for. Susan imagined the garden seen from above, there the outhouse, here some apple trees and behind her and a little to the right the white gate leading to the brook. She said the words, swished her wand and suddenly the biting cold of the outdoors was around her. She used the snow magic and floated slowly down to stand gingerly in the surface of the snow. Everything was almost buried in snow, only the very top of the house with chimney and the top of the roof was visible over the snow banks. Keeping the spell at a minimum she walked over the drifts. She followed Grandmas instructions and went around the house. In the end of the house pointing away from the water and the winds, a hatch could be seen. And tracks in the snow leading in and out showed Susan that Grandma had used this hatch as a door. She opened it and went in. She had been in the attic before, when helping thatch the roof, the hatch leading down to the kitchen was easily found even in the semi darkness. She climbed through and stood in Grandma's cosy kitchen.
"oh, there you are," grandma said her beady eyes shining warmly. "Do you need a cup of coffee now, or would you like to go shopping first?"
"Let me get the shopping over with first" Susan answered. "The roads are getting worse all the time."
"Maybe you could pop in and ask Auntie G if she needs anything. I think she should not try and brave the roads either. She fell and almost broke an arm on her way home."
"I will," Susan said, climbing the steep, rickety ladder to the attic.
"I'll tie some rope to the beams up there while you're away," Granny said. "That way you can raise and lower the loot without having to climb through hatches and down breakneck ladders."
"Smart," Susan said. "I'll leave the hatch open then."
"Please do! With all that snow insulating the house here won't be cold. Everything has a silver lining."
Auntie G gave her a shopping list, a sturdy basket and some more money along with some admonitions.
As soon as Susan was well away from the house, she cast the snow magic and danced through the half blizzard up to the mini-market. She did not trust her teleporting powers, as the mini-market was not a place she went that often.
The shop was not crammed, but it held more customers than Susan had ever seen. Then again normally she trekked up there with the cousins to buy ice-cream on hot summer's days, not for shopping. She found all the items on both lists and nicely put the items in the right baskets.
The lady behind the counter recognized Susan, a tribute to her fabled memory, and scolded Grandma and Auntie G for sending her out in the inclement weather. "No," Susan said, "I'll be alright. Grandma is not getting any younger, and auntie G slipped and sprained a wrist arriving home. I volunteered. It's really not that far, and I love snow!"
Teleporting back again was the obvious solution, but Susan had told the truth about loving snow. She once again activated the snow magic, and warm and cosy she danced home, now with the winds mostly in her back.
Over a cup of coffee and bread with home-made jam, Susan told some of what had happened at the Christmas party at the Farm. She told about the exotic dresses and the fabulous food from all over the world.
Then Susan noticed the time: "I got to get back," she said. It will soon be dark, and the snowstorm seems not to be wanting to stop any time soon."
"How will you get home,Susan?" Auntie G asked solicitously.
"The same way as I got here. It's not really that far, and I love snow."
"Susan will manage, don't you worry," Grandma said winking at Susan.
Susan dressed in all her winter things and once again climbed the rickety ladder. Auntie G rose and held on to it.
"Thanks!" Susan said, "those swaying motions make me dizzy. What a luck the ladder is not that tall." Susan could almost touch the roof in Grandmas kitchen with her head, Auntie G laughed: "No it really is not."
Susan walked as far as the white gate before teleporting back to the cellar of the Unicorn Farm.
As she arrived, she saw Torben leaving the cellar via the far off staircase, and a shredded letter was smouldering in the fireplace: "Slökkvið!" Susan said instinctively and pulled the burnt and torn pieces out of the fire.

mandag den 15. februar 2021

Poetry Monday :: From my Pet's Point of View

  Diane of On the Border is supplying us with topics for this weekly endeavour, sometimes with the help of others - If you have any good ideas, just say so in the comments. She and Mimi of Messymimi's Meanderings also write wonderful, funny, thought-provoking, ingenious and honestly well written verse. Go and read.
  SpikesBestMate often publishes a nice verse in the comments, and helps out at topic supplying.
  Karen of Baking in a Tornado has joined us in this crazy pursuit, and promises us at least a poem a month - we hope for more.
  Jenny at Procrastinating Donkey is taking a break due to her husband's illness and passing from this world. Let's continue to send warm thoughts, good energy, and lots of prayers her way.

  I have something more to ask of you: If you read this and the poetry of others, would you please leave a comment. Half - if not more - the fun of these challenges is receiving the responses of others

  From my pet's point of view ... but I have no pet.
  And as I wrote when the theme was The Antics of Pets back in June last year, I did not have many pets and certainly not normal ones as a child. Apart from a white mouse that died after only a few days, a crazy, inbred cat which was euthanised, goldfish  who lost their tails to some mysterious disease and were flushed down the toilet, and a couple of  Guinea pigs belonging to my sister, I only kept crabs that invariably died in our play pool, spiders, ladybugs, worms, bumblebees and such like wild bug-lifey pets in an old fishtank.
  I've beem pulligg my hair and thinking all day  ... here's what came out of it:

We talk of pets, but for my part
The only pets I have and had
Are chicken in my garden
And if you think that they are smart
Intelligent - but just a tad
I really beg your pardon.
Where am I? Who did this? Can I eat that?
I'm hungry, I'm thirsty. Is that a hawk?
Oh, I've got to lay an egg. Now what?
Bawk, cluck, bagog, bawk, bawk!

Next Monday's topic: Favourite Word that Starts With D.

torsdag den 11. februar 2021

TUSAL - February 2021

Today is the new Moon of February 2021. And the Chinese new year - the year of the Ox.

-- 🐂 --

     I dag er det nymåne. Det er kinesisk nytår, oksens år starter, og så er det TUSAL-tid.
     Og hvad er så TUSAL? Det er en forkortelse for Totally Useless Stitch A-Long - totalt nyttesløs sy-kreds.
     Man gemmer alle sine fraklippede garnender, tråde og så videre. Alt det, man normalt smider ud, og putter dem i en fin beholder. Hver gang det er nymåne, tager man et billede af beholderen og enderne, skriver en blogpost om dem, og linker til nedenstående.


What is TUSAL: It is an acronym for Totally Useless Stitch-A-Long. See my explanation HERE or even better follow this link to to Daffycat's original post on WHAT IS TUSAL 

-- 🐂 --

   I den forgangne måned er det ikke tråde og garn, der har fyldt mest. De fleste ender stammer fra min  vinding  af plantefarvet garn i pæne nøgler. Men her er i hvert fald februars stumper:


I have not been very diligent in yarny ways in the past lunar month.
Most of my ORTs come from my winding of plant dyed yarns into cakes.Here are my February ORTs.

onsdag den 10. februar 2021

Winter at Unicorn Farm - 2

In February the prompts are provided by Alex J. Cavanaugh, but published at Elephant's Child's blog. Today he has given us two times five words.


These words were quite challenging. 'Wolfheart' is what - a heavy metal band or something? and Voyager a space probe, and on top of that my spell checker kept insisting that "theatre" was the correct spelling, I complied so as to keep it happy.
  Once again I used the words in the order they were given.
  This is a continuation from last Wednesday, and tells in a very compact form something that will probably turn into a full chapter or two in the book.

The fates did not want her to succeed, that dastard statue. Some parts must be missing and others mixed in. her thoughts went astray. Outside the windows the snow was falling in droves and she thought back at the mornings radio news warning about not venturing out due to snowstorms and drifting. But this day was going to be the exam in teleportation for the younger ones at Unicorn Farm among those Susan and Heidi. Nobody and nothing, not even two metres of snow, could have kept her at home. But she felt sorry for Grandma. She had phoned that morning. Her house actually was covered in two metres of snow. She had to climb the steep ladder to the attic, put on her snowshoes and go out through the hatch to go shopping. Susan had promised to come and help later that day - she hoped, fervently hoped, that she would finally pass her teleporting test. That would make keeping her promise so much easier.
  She stared at the armoured belly of the statue ... parts were still missing from there, and even a saint would have lost patience by now. She thought back. Dragons from the Ming dynasty were not supposed to have legs, or were they supposed to have many legs. That blasted statue. She gave up, left the statue at the table and went in search of Jon. He had to help her.
  Opening the door, they almost collided. "Sorry Susan," he said, his white teeth bright in his friendly, dark face. "I gave you the wrong box. Most of the parts for that dragon is NOT in the box marked 'Dragon', but in the one marked 'Wolfheart'. However this happened, nobody knows." Jon went to the cupboard and took out another crate, almost identical to the one at the table. Susan pushed aside the wrong parts and poured out the contents of the Wolfheart crate. Yes. There an eye, here a leg and a tongue. This looked like it could turn into a dragon.
  After putting together the statue, Susan went to the small room in the attic. She needed to find at least some modicum of serenity before her turn came up ...

Jon knocked on the door. "Susan, are you in there? The exams are starting in a few minutes."
  Frantically Susan gathered her wits and joined the small group in the corridor. "No need to fear," Jon said. "You all know how to do it, and what to do. You can do it. Relax!"
  They went to an unused part of the Farm buildings. In the cellar of the teachers' building were among other bric-a-brac, the remains of an old puppet theatre; and Jon had used the dolls and the theatre to explain and demonstrate the hows and whys of teleporting. From there it was like being in a dream. As her turn came up, she did the moves, and said the words, and she was no longer in front of the theatre, but in the Barn. All the other teachers sat there and applauded her loudly.
  The next voyager to appear was Heidi. And Susan applauded with the others and the teachers. Then Heidi and Susan hugged one another - now they were free to come and go, and Susan could go help out Grandma who was almost buried in the snow drifts.

tirsdag den 9. februar 2021

Dagens temperatur - The Temperature of the Day

I januar kiggede jeg rundt på besøgende på Daffycats blog for at finde noget mere om TUSAL. Der fandt jeg en brodér dagens temperatur-idé. Mne jeg havde ikke lyst til at brodere. Tegne derimod ville være en idé. Og jeg har et gammelt mønster, som i flere årtier gammelt, som er dukket op i mit hoved med jævne mellemrum. Nu kunne jeg endelig bruge det til noget. Hver morgen tjekker jeg gennemsnitstemperaturen for i går - desværre er det ikke de venlige sjæle på Bedre vejr der kan hjælpe mig, men det stadigt blafrende, hoppende og bruger-uvenlige DMI der har disse data.

- - 🌨 - - 🌤 - -

One day, looking at the posts from Daffycat's TUSAL post, I found a Temperature SAL
Well, I did not want to stitch, but draw, yes please. I had a pattern I drew many years ago - as in decades ago - and it has been haunting me ever since. Now I finally found a use for it - and if I forget how cold it was yesterday or the day before that, the weathermen (unfortunately not the friendly Better Weather types, but the very user-unfriendly DMI) can help me out.

Temperaturskala - Temperature chart
over 26
26 - 22
22 - 18
18 - 14
14 - 10
10 - 6
6 - 2
2 - ÷1
÷1 - 5
 ÷5 & under

Da jeg lavede den tabel, tænkte jeg, at jeg nok ikke ville få brug for ÷5 og derunder, men jeg tog fejl. Der har indtil videre været 3 døgn med en gennemsnitstemperatur under minus 5 grader i februar.

- - 🌨 - - 🌤 - -

Making this temperture chrat I did not imagine using the ÷5 & under, it is rarely seen this close to the water. But so far February has had 3 days with a mean temperature of 5 or less below zero.

mandag den 8. februar 2021

Poetry Monday :: Craziest Vacation Memory

  Diane of On the Border is supplying us with topics for this weekly endeavour, sometimes with the help of others - If you have any good ideas, just say so in the comments. She and Mimi of Messymimi's Meanderings also write wonderful, funny, thought-provoking, ingenious and honestly well written verse. Go and read.
  SpikesBestMate often publishes a nice verse in the comments, and helps out at topic supplying.
  Karen of Baking in a Tornado has joined us in this crazy pursuit, and promises us at least a poem a month - we hope for more.
  Jenny at Procrastinating Donkey is taking a break due to her husband's illness and passing from this world. Let's continue to send warm thoughts, good energy, and lots of prayers her way.

  I have something more to ask of you: If you read this and the poetry of others, would you please leave a comment. Half - if not more - the fun of these challenges is receiving the responses of others

This week's topic, Craziest Vacation Memory,

As stated in my "Bucket list in Reverse" I have travelled extensively and much, seen sights and done things, I only now wonder how I ever survived.
Citing only the travel-related lines from said poem:

I've sledged down a mountain side
Sat on a camel for a ride, ...
Seen forest fires and deserts grand.
I've been to many a foreign land.
How many? Well, I cannot count,
As many are no more around.
I've been shot at in Damascus once. ...
Dined with a prince,
And also stayed for days with nuns, ...
Heard Jessie Norman sing as young
and almost unknown, she was strong!
I have heard mastersingers sing
In Salzburg - singing of The Ring.
Heard Papageno win his love
The Queen of Night watched from above.

I've been to Khartoum Porto, Rome.
Eaten simit in Izmir, seen St. Peter's tomb,
Been to Dubrovnik before the war ...
I've eaten bread with beetles, yes!
At least in bread
they were baked and dead
In biscuits - yuck! I'll let you guess.

I've seen a lion, ...
Slept in a hut with palm leaf roof,
Swam in the Nile,
Met a crocodile ...
And rode a mule. 
I've been at sea one stormy night. ...
I've seen the Pyramids, a sight
I've climbed a mountain, ...
Eaten olives from a tree ...
In Salzburg I've sat on a bench.

I've been to the Oktoberfest -
The pretzels were the very best.
I've crossed the polar line in May
It also snowed a bit that day. ...
I've met the Pope ...
I've been to London, rode the tube, ...
And nearly drowned in tidal brine.
I drove a bus down hairpin bends,
so sharp that sparks flew from both ends. ...
And pilfered mango from a tree. 

... but my craziest vacation memory? Hmm, let me see if I can put it into a rhyme.
I only changed the
rather unique name of our enthusiastic, elderly and naïve, but God-trusting friend:

Just after mass one Sunday in May,
On holiday plans we talked a while
We stated out plan: Go to Lourdes and pray
"Oh yes," Elizabeth said with a smile
"I'll meet you there, as that same week
Is the Nordic pilgrimage to there-week."
And we said "Yes" and parted ways.

We travelled Europe for a week
Then went to Lourdes our friend to seek.
But the very size of town and square
Seemed to make a lie of "Meet you there"
A signpost read: '6 million pilgrims every year'
As many as in Denmark live - we'll never meet.
And God knows only how many square feet.
We pitched our tent and went to sleep.

Next day was dreary, threatening rain
But that day would never come again
So off we went - yes young and brave
And crossed the gentle river Gave
A giant grind just opened now
We went inside, and then somehow
The first person we ever met?
Oh yes you guessed - Elizabeth!

Next Mondays topic is From Your Pet's Point of View.

søndag den 7. februar 2021

Happy Birthday

     I dag er det Laura Ingalls Wilders 154 års fødselsdag, og med den kulde vi har, burde vi fejre den med at lave ahornsukkerslik. Desværre har vi trasket rundt i al sneen, så det må vi have til gode til der forhåbentlig kommer et drys i denne uge.
Making Maple sugar - Ahornslik-fabrikation.  Garth Williams

Today marks the 154th birthanniversary of Laura Ingalls Wilder. For once it's cold enough to make maple sugar, but we have trampled all the snow. We've got to wait until we get a new sprinkle of snow, I hope this Wednesday.

Søndagsbilleder - Sunday Selections

En dag om ugen til at vise alle de billeder, man ellers ikke får set eller vist frem. Sjovt, alvorligt, trist, irriterende, men ikke noget sjofelt. tak.
     Ideen kom oprindeligt fra Kim at  Frogpondsrock, men nu er det Elephant's Child, der er vært.
     Dagens tema: Koldt!

- - - 🖼 - - -

Sunday Selections was originally brought to us by Kim, of Frogpondsrock, as an ongoing meme where participants could post previously unused photos languishing in their files.
Now Elephant's Child is hosting it.

The rules are so simple as to be almost non-existent. Post some photos under the title Sunday Selections and link back to her blog.

Theme of the day: Cold

Det er søreme koldt udenfor - Baby, it's cold outside!

Ugleungerne benytter chancen til at lave isskjolde - The Owlets make ice shields

Mens Uglemor vinder garn - Whilse MotherOwl winds yarn into cakes.

Og ham her holder vagt over haven til Haveuglen kommer igen - While this owl keeps the chair warm for GardenOwl.